The Wounds I Touch

Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” – John 20:27-29

On Good Friday I walked a very special Way of the Cross. My daughter and I pushed the wheelchair of an elderly sister, whose mind goes in and out of focus. When I had visited this sister the previous week, she asked for my daughter. She wanted to share the wonderful gardens and pet rabbits with her. 

However, she did not think it was Good Friday, so as I pushed her along the pathway, instead of stopping at each station, we stopped at each rose. She wanted my 8-year-old to appreciate each vibrant color that grew along the pathway of her skilled nursing facility. We stopped to admire pinks, oranges, and reds – more varied rose colors than I ever knew existed. We did not recite the formal prayers of the Stations. We did not stop at each vivid image of Christ’s suffering. We stopped to speak to the caring staff, we met her fellow residents, we admired the activities lovingly prepared for those who will likely never leave these grounds again. 

Our walk was slow, gentle, and peaceful. The grounds were sacred, not because of the holy images we passed, but because Jesus had invited me to walk with Him. I have touched the wounds of Jesus, I have met him in some of the most vulnerable members of my community. 

Over the next few days, the church lost Pope Francis and then one day later, our community lost another sister.  My daughter had danced and made faces in the livestream feed after the Easter Vigil mass, to bring a smile to this dying sister’s face. When I told her of the sister’s passing, she asked, “why does everyone I love die?” The only answer I could come up with was that she loves so freely and wholly, especially those who are isolated and alone. 

From the cross, to the tomb, to the locked room. To touch the wounds of Christ is to love Him, even if that means experiencing loss and pain. I am not called to cure or to solve, but simply to walk alongside the Risen One.